


As the Suns Go Down

by RovingRanger



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Anxiety, Canon-Typical Violence, Depression, Episode: s04e22 Revenge, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of Murder, Minor Character Death, Obi-Wan Kenobi Gets a Hug, Obi-Wan Kenobi Has Self-Esteem Issues, Panic Attacks, Post-Rako Hardeen Arc (Star Wars: Clone Wars), Some Fluff, it's Maul, mental health
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-26
Packaged: 2021-03-27 15:01:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30124599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RovingRanger/pseuds/RovingRanger
Summary: After the Hardeen arc, Obi-wan faces exhaustion as he tries to resume his life as a Jedi. But some enemies, inside his head and out, just won't stay dead.The first three chapters were posted as part of my "Never Really Win a War" collection.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano
Comments: 29
Kudos: 79





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [happyme111](https://archiveofourown.org/users/happyme111/gifts), [Lol](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lol/gifts), [yumiicecream](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yumiicecream/gifts).



> Please mind the tags! If there are additional warnings that should be tagged, please let me know. This is an attempt to portray what is like to have mental health challenges by projecting onto well-known fictional characters. Stay safe.

The debate had lasted for hours, hours that they really couldn’t afford. Eval’s plot was already underway. A plot that had been a long time in the making. They had discussed multiple ways to stop the attempt against the Chancellor, but each was discarded as leaving too much up to chance. There wasn’t enough time.

The only thing they knew about the plot was its existence. To stop it, they had to know what it was. It led them to a dark conclusion, one that hung heavy in the room. Mace understood the issues that could result from this. Every point against faking a Jedi’s death, particularly Kenobi, to uncover the plot against the Chancellor was true. Master Kenobi was respected, looked up to, and was part of many circles. It was hard to not like the unassuming, gentle Master, and those that spent the most time around him could not imagine the galaxy without Kenobi’s steady, glowing presence. That included Mace Windu himself. But these were desperate times. 

The Shadow that had confirmed Dooku’s involvement and that Eval’s plan included the Chancellor had given his life to get them that meager information. Every other Shadow was employed elsewhere. Kenobi had experience being undercover, was adept with in investigations of all kinds, and had some of the strongest mental shields in the Order. He was the best man for the job. 

“As I have shared before, Dooku seems to be aware of at least some of the activity within the temple itself,” Kenobi was saying. 

And it was true; the Count had let slip a small comment, something only someone in the temple would know. They had searched fruitlessly for a leak, any kind of surveillance, anything. The uneasy knowledge in the back of their minds was that someone within the Order was feeding the Separatists information, likely unwittingly. 

“He would find out the truth. The only way it could possibly work would be to . . .” Obi-wan trailed off. Mace glanced at the young Master, seeing the man’s face tighten. It was subtle, but it made him look ten years older. 

“Unless?” Master Ti pressed. 

“Unless Anakin and everyone in the temple truly believed me dead,” Obi-wan said flatly. “The deception would have to extend to them as well.” He gave a minute shake of his head. “But I cannot willingly subject Anakin to the pain of losing his master. Not when I know how it feels.” 

Obi-wan’s shields were tightly in place, his face a proper mask. But Mace knew enough about his friend to guess the suppressed pain the young man was hiding. 

“This would be different,” Mundi said thoughtfully. Not quite gently, not quite accusing. Practical. “You shared a master-padawan bond with Master Jinn at the time of his death. As a Knight, Skywalker’s bond with you has already been properly undone. He will not experience that pain.” 

“Clouded, the Force is” Yoda said. The grandmaster’s eyes were closed, ears twitching. “No clear answer does it have.”

“Master Windu?” Kenobi prompted. 

Mace knew what was being asked. His closed his eyes briefly, inspecting the situation with his ability to see important points—shatterpoints. He only needed a brief look. He lifted his head and shared what he had seen. “There are too many shatterpoints surrounding this. It is like looking at a smashed mirror, with so many cracks there is not enough reflection to see.” Mace sat back, heaving an internal sigh and biting back bitterness that they were forced to ask this. “The majority agrees with this plan. I’m afraid that the final decision rests with you, Master Kenobi. Will you accept this mission?” 

He watched the weight of the Republic settle on Obi-wan’s shoulders, bowing the man forward as he rested his elbows on his knees. The man looked blankly at the floor for several long seconds. The room seemed to hold its breath as Obi-wan wrestled with the decision. 

Everything the Council had discussed was true. And regardless of their personal feelings about the man, without Palpatine, several key systems would withdraw from the Republic. The consequences would be far reaching. Obi-wan, on the other hand . . . 

It came down to the survival of the Republic, or sparing his friends from a loss that could truthfully happen at any time. Of them all, Anakin was the one Obi-wan most worried about. Balance still eluded his former apprentice, and of late Anakin had seemed moody, more prone to anger. 

Palpatine was someone that Anakin had chosen, someone that Anakin confided in. Someone he trusted and defended with fierce loyalty. To him, the Chancellor could do no wrong. Obi-wan was the opposite of all that. Oh, Anakin would still defend him fiercely. But Anakin did not choose Obi-wan. He had been assigned to his mentor, and though the new Knight had tried to give the boy a choice, let him decide his own fate, he knew that if Anakin could go back, he would have changed that decision multiple times over the years. 

They had grown closer after Anakin was knighted. Despite the truth of Mundi’s words, Obi-wan would spare Anakin the pain of losing a master, a friend. Unfortunately, the situation would not allow it. No matter what his former master chose, Anakin would have to face the loss of either Obi-wan or the Chancellor. He had no doubt who Anakin would rather it be. Besides, this way, Obi-wan’s “death” would be temporary, while if they failed to foil an unknown plot to kidnap the Chancellor, Palpatine would likely truly be dead. 

He lifted his head and gave a brief nod.

*****

The initial relief when the mission was completed faded quickly. Reclaiming his own face was supposed to be the end of it. Obi-wan had known it couldn’t be that way, not really. But it was worse than he imagined. 

Anakin and Ashoka had walked away without a word after the debriefing. Ahsoka had glanced back once before hurrying after her master, and Obi-wan had felt a twinge of hope that perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad. He had hurried to have the voice modulator removed and resume his own identity, then went to find Anakin. 

He was not at his quarters, or at Ahsoka’s. He wasn’t in the mess, nor in the gardens, and Obi-wan didn’t think Anakin would risk going to see Senator Amidala right now. The Chancellor had called a Senate meeting, so Anakin wouldn’t be visiting either of them. He finally found him in the training rooms. Obi-wan approached cautiously, aware of the others present in the spacious room. 

“Ana—” he coughed. His throat felt scraped and inflamed. It probably was. Anakin continued sparring with a training droid, not acknowledging Obi-wan’s presence. Obi-wan tried again, slightly louder, ignoring the rasp in his voice. “Anakin, we need to talk—” 

Anakin whirled to face him. “I don’t want to talk to you.” He brushed past Obi-wan, physically shouldering him aside on his way out. 

Obi-wan swallowed thickly, staring at the ground. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Ahsoka one section over. She too had been fighting a training droid, practicing her jar’kai. She stood with both sabers ignited at training setting, and he knew she had seen the brief exchange. Taking a deep breath, Obi-wan walked toward her, forming a cautious smile as he reached the edge of her mat. “I—” 

“I should go with him,” Ahsoka said suddenly. She left the room, murmuring the briefest “excuse me” his direction as she went. Obi-wan stood frozen, looking at the droid Ahsoka had left behind in her hurry to get away from him. He had expected anger, perhaps yelling. He had not prepared for silence. He pulled his mental walls up tight, shielding his emotions. 

The silence was bigger than Anakin and Ahsoka, he realized. It filled the room, and Obi-wan looked up. 

Every eye was on him, all activity temporarily ceased. Blank faces stared back at him, and across the room he spotted someone fold their arms. Obi-wan scanned the room. No one moved, no one acknowledged or waved a greeting. No one smiled. The silence settled in Obi-wan’s heart, and he fled the room. 

Outside, he tucked his hands into his sleeves and paused to breathe. Deeply, in and out. Steady. Release it into the force. They need time, they’d been hurt and it was fair that seeing him could be difficult. 

But he didn’t have time. Anakin and his men were shipping out tomorrow. Obi-wan pursed his lips and then followed Anakin’s force signature to his former apprentice’s quarters.  
He knocked. There was movement within, but Anakin didn’t answer. Obi-wan knew the code, of course, but he knew it would not be wise to use it right now. He turned away, dejected, when the door finally slid open. There was no one immediately on the other side. 

Obi-wan passed through the doorway, looking around to see Anakin leaning with arms crossed against the wall by the ‘fresher door. 

“I thought I made it clear; leave me alone.” 

Obi-wan winced. “Anakin, I’m sorry,” he started. Force, speaking hurt, but if he could at least let Anakin know how sorry he was, it would be worth it. “Let me explain—” 

“I don’t need any more explanations,” Anakin snarled. “I know what happened. Blame it on the Council, blame it on duty, blame it on anyone else, but I know the truth. You used us, used me! You admitted lying to us was your idea!” 

“Yes, but—” 

“No.” Anakin’s voice was hiss. A muscle twitched in the young man’s jaw as he took two steps closer to Obi-wan, each sentence pounding into him until Obi-wan couldn’t breathe. “You don’t get to just come back and act like nothing happened. You betrayed me. I don’t want to see you. I will not be stuck with your excuses anymore.” 

Obi-wan’s lips parted slightly, but he couldn’t form the words. It didn’t matter whether his throat was damaged from the deception or not. He couldn’t speak around the tightness in his throat anyway. 

Anakin stalked past him, the coldness pouring off him in waves as he paused by the door. “Don’t bother coming back. I don’t want you.” 

Something twisted in Obi-wan’s chest.

*****

It wasn’t the last rejection he received. 

He had spent the few days he had been given to recover from the Hardeen mission in his quarters. It was safer there. Any time he left, whispers followed him. They shoved at his back like physical things. Even younglings and the younger Jedi that he did not know as well seemed to go still when entered the room, eyes swinging toward him. He had taken to pulling the hood of his robe up to hide his face when he left his rooms, and then resorted to not leaving them at all.

He had invited Senators Organa, Amidala, and Chuchi to meet for a meal, but each had declined with the statement that they were busy. The brevity stung. Satine and Dex never returned his calls. 

He had left to rejoin the 212th on a mission, eager to see them, to explain and ask for forgiveness. He longed for the feeling of belonging, the simple camaraderie shared among men he trusted his life with, and trusted him with theirs. 

The welcome he received now was anything but warm. The 212th had stood in ranks, buckets on, not moving as he spoke to them. He had apologized, expressing his regret that they had been sent away and for the manner in which they had been told the news. There was no softening in the Force around them. When they were dismissed, the men disbanded, leaving in small clusters. 

Obi-wan watched them go. He turned to Cody, hoping to get an update on what had happened in his absence. Perhaps exchange a quip or two. But no, Cody was leaving as well.  
“Commander, a moment, if you please.” 

Cody turned back, face unreadable and posture purposefully at attention. “Sir.” 

The formality made Obi-wan cringe. “Cody, I— I hope you and the men can understand. What I did, I did as my duty to the Republic. I’m sorry. Truly.” He waited, searching the commander’s face for a sign of friendship, of forgiveness. 

“Anything else, sir?” Cody’s face remained a dutiful mask. The stiff manner was not lost on Obi-wan. 

“Yes,” he said, pushing back his dismay. “I ask your forgiveness. When you can.” 

****

_“Let’s go, you coward.” Anakin shoved him, and “Hardeen” stumbled into the dining hall of Coruscant’s prison. He was swept along the line of prisoners getting food, deposited at one of the tables. The memory of it came back strong: the measuring glances, the knowledge that he would have to do something drastic to earn their respect if he wanted to survive, let alone accomplish his mission. The sick feeling as his drove a fork through the cartilage of another prisoner’s hand._

_The prisoners cheered around him. Faceless guards ran in, and Obi-wan stood frozen as the guards became the 212th. Bane shot several in front of him, tossing a blaster at Obi-wan and demanding he execute the next one himself. But he couldn’t pull the trigger. They were his men! He turned, lowering the blaster in time to see Bane holding the storekeeper in the air. Obi-wan rushed forward, tackling the bounty hunter._

_Bane punched him, and he toppled over beside a ship. He looked up. Anakin and Ahsoka stood over him, scowling. “Don’t bother coming back, Obi-wan,” Anakin said, picking “Hardeen” up off the floor and tossing him into the ship._

_Obi-wan turned, heart pounding, as the ship tilted, smoke billowing from the engines. The floor of the ship tilted beneath him, and he threw himself into the pilot’s seat, fighting the ship, but the controls wouldn’t respond. They crashed into the Box. Toxic gas spilled from the ship’s panels, and Obi-wan tumbled from the door, lungs bursting from holding his breath._

_“We learned on Umbara that some see us clones as something to be used,” Cody’s voice said harshly. Obi-wan glanced up into his commander’s face, plastered across the Box’s wallscreens. “We understand what you did, General. We just thought you were different.”_

_“Your lack of leadership skills is disappointing,” Dooku chuckled from another wall. “Kill Eval. Show me what you are capable of.”_

_The floor lifted “Hardeen” into the air, forming a sort of arena surrounded by flames. Eval was on top of him, and Obi-wan kicked upward, knocking the criminal back. He leaped after the dropped body, pummeling his fists downward. But it wasn’t Eval anymore, it was Anakin, and he looked up at Obi-wan with eyes full of betrayal._

_“You’re supposed to be dead,” he accused. A saber flashed in his hand, and Obi-wan fell back, fingers scrabbling at his chest where Anakin’s blue blade cut through to his heart._

Obi-wan woke with a jolt, panic pressing him to the mattress like an invisible weight. His lungs heaved, and his sleep clothes were plastered to his skin with sweat. He sat up, turning so that his back was to the wall. The images swam through his brain, swirling together with said and unsaid words. Disgust rose as he thought about the mission and what he had had to do as Hardeen. Loneliness crashed around him. He pulled in his knees, resting his chin on his arms and staring at the darkness. 

****

When Obi-wan had been very small, he had been fascinated with the wonders the galaxy had to offer. His curiosity had sometimes led him into trouble. Once, while on an academic trip to study the living Force among the plants of Kashyyk, Obi-wan had wandered off, lost in the details of his youngling world. He had been examining the intricate network of vines twining overhead when he had stumbled into a sinkhole. He had felt the surface give way beneath his feet, felt it sucking him downward before one of the creche masters had pulled his five-year-old body free. 

It felt like that now, only the sinkhole was somewhere inside him, and there was no one to catch him. His worst fears had been confirmed. All of the anxieties he had secretly harbored, all the doubts and fears that had haunted him for more than thirty years, were not unfounded. Thirty years’ worth of emotions dutifully released into the Force were being sucked down into the sinkhole in his chest, and Obi-wan didn’t know how to stop it. 

At first he tried to still be part of his friends’ lives in small ways. Greeting the shinies, procuring orange-gold pigments for repainting armor that went unused for days. Leaving messages of congratulations, or condolences. He watched the clones one day, seeing how they interacted, and it was like looking in through a window. Laughter, and playful shoving, an ease in manner and language that had been absent whenever he was around, even before his “death.” 

A brief encounter with Anakin on a day of leave confirmed the stony coldness remained between them. Obi-wan had been so lonely that day, he risked allowing his shields to lower, just enough to send a tendril of his signature into the Force. Anakin’s walls were up, and in the entire encounter, he did not brush his Force signature toward Obi-wan. Not even a little. 

The knowledge wrapped around him in uncompromising bands, forcing him to acknowledge the agonizing truth. 

They were all better off without him. 

Obi-wan spent Council meetings focused on keeping his shields locked tight, hiding the bruises on his soul. Staring down the stark shambles of his life day in and day out tore holes in him that quickly depleted his energy to fill them. He wove his shame into a rigid wall, using it as fuel to shield those around him from his failures and the obtrusion of his company. 

The phantoms of his nightmares loomed over him in his fitful bouts of sleep, taking the forms of his friends and acquaintances and spitting harsh words. During the days he frantically shoveled his misery into the Force, but it was like trying to rake water. Some days he channeled everything he had into releasing his negative emotions, keeping at it until he was empty. He would remain empty for days, at times. The empty grayness scared him when he was able to feel again; was this what was left to him? Other days he couldn’t manage the tide, and he berated himself, slamming control against the relentless waves until he could quell them. Then he would throw himself into whatever task was at hand, whatever might make him of some worth. 

Gradually things returned to some semblance of how they were before. Anakin became less distant, the clones began to relax around him, and he began to get short messages again. But Obi-wan was haunted by the realization of his self-doubts. Every once in a while he would see Cody, Mace, whoever was around glance at him when they thought he wasn’t looking. He saw the slight frowns, and his guilt ratcheted. The emptiness he carried inside him ruined their happiness. The dull ache left in his chest pulsed, but he resolved to stay away from them as much as possible. 

*****

Ahsoka stood with her master and Master Obi-wan on a bluff, overlooking the setting suns. The camp was in the meadows behind them, and for now they had a quiet evening. Ahsoka knew that could change in a second. She just wanted to enjoy the moment. 

“Beautiful, isn’t it,” Obi-wan murmured. There was a warmth in his voice she hadn’t heard since . . . well, since Master Kenobi faked his death. Over the past tenday, as she and Anakin had come to terms with what had happened and begun to spend time around him again, Master Kenobi had seemed more closed off. It was to be expected, she had thought guiltily. But now he had that soft look on his face, the one he sometimes got when admiring some obscure detail, or during a deep meditation. She smiled to see it. 

“I’ve missed you, Master Kenobi,” Ahsoka said, impulsively wrapping her arms around him in a loose hug. “I’m glad you’re here with us.” 

Obi-wan froze. The Force around him seemed to unravel, his mental shields crumbling like they had been blasted with plasma cannons. For a second the last thing he had been thinking shimmered in his Force signature, exposed by the collapse of his shields: _How can I feel so much wonder at the galaxy and yet not want to live?_

Ahsoka gasped, quickly sending affection, warmth, and comfort towards the thought, tightening her arms around her grandmaster. 

Three tendays after his miraculous return, Obi-wan Kenobi shattered.


	2. Chapter 2

Three tendays after his miraculous return, Obi-wan shattered. He knees buckled, eyes rolling back in his head as he collapsed into Ahsoka’s arms. She caught him, lowering the deadweight until his head was cradled in her lap. The Togruta’s bewilderment was quickly overrun with memories. 

The binary sunset was no longer a thing of beauty. Instead, it seemed mockingly ominous, with the radiant light slowly bleeding into red. Ahsoka knelt on the bluff, struggling to breathe. 

No, this couldn’t be happening. Not again. It had only been four span ago that she had knelt helplessly in the night air, holding this same limp form in her arms. She tightened her arms around her grandmaster’s shoulders. 

_Then, his Force signature had faded, finally flickering out with an apologetic sigh._ Ahsoka plunged into the Force, peering at Obi-wan. His signature now, too, was faint, but it wasn’t small. Not like a candle going out. When she brushed up against him she could see an impenetrable wall, rebuilt in a reflexive instant before he collapsed. His light seemed dull, smothered, but it was still there. 

_Then, his face was relaxed, almost peaceful, as if rain weren’t beginning to drip upon it._ His face was still now too, as if he were sleeping. _Then, Anakin had arrived, concern leaking all over the place._

“What happened?” 

_Then, Ahsoka had turned to face him._ Now, she kept her eyes on Obi-wan, regulating her own breathing. _His skin had grown pale and assumed a waxy pallor. His strong body was limp. And he remained still. So still._ Ahsoka slipped one hand free and pressed trembling fingers to Obi-wan’s throat. 

There. A pulse, strong and steady. 

Ahsoka choked back a sob of relief. “Get the medic.” Her voice lost the wobble the longer she spoke. “And bring a comm to contact the Jedi temple.” 

“What?” Anakin ran a hand through his hair. “What’s wrong with him? Ahsoka?” 

“Please, master, hurry.” He left, and Ahsoka ran the fingers of one hand through her grandmaster’s auburn hair, peering down at Obi-wan, watching him breathe. 

*******

The Halls of Healing were familiar to Ahsoka. Master Che and some staff had whisked Obi-wan away as soon as the shuttle landed on Coruscant, beckoning for Ahsoka to explain what had happened. The medics settled Obi-wan in one of the private rooms. Master Che invited Ahsoka to come with her as she entered the room. 

The Togruta bit her lip at the sight of Obi-wan, lying so still and pale in the crisp white sheets. He had been hooked up to several monitors, an I.V. in one hand for fluids and nutrients. He hadn’t woken up the entire trip to Coruscant. Nor, it appeared, had he stirred since. 

“All of his vitals are normal,” Master Che observed. “There are no visible wounds. Even his throat has healed.” The Jedi turned to Ahsoka. “I am going to try something,” she said softly. “The thought Master Kenobi had before collapsing. . . is rather telling.” She cleared her throat, placing a hand on Ahsoka’s shoulder. “I understand that Master Kenobi has a rather unique relationship to you. I would like you to help me try to contact him.”

Ahsoka looked at the unconscious form, not understanding. 

“We will reach out to him in the Force,” Master Che explained. “Master Kenobi is well-known for the strength of his mental shields.”

Ahsoka nodded. She knew this. It made Master Obi-wan very difficult to read. And he was a very private person. It made her feel privileged, somehow, to know him as well as she did. 

“Obi-wan may be the only one that can tell us exactly what is happening,” Master Che continued. “His coma is not caused by anything physical. The answer lies within him. Within his mind.” Then, as if she had read Ahsoka’s thoughts, she said, “I do not know that I would be strong enough to get through to him. His shielding is very strong. It is possible, however, that if he senses someone with me, someone close to him, he may allow us to enter.” 

Ahsoka swallowed. It would be an invasion of Master Kenobi’s privacy. But the ache in her chest when she looked at him, completely oblivious to the world around him, convinced her. 

She nodded. 

Master Che had her sit on Master Obi-wan’s other side. Following the healer’s guidance, Ahsoka took one of Obi-wan’s hands. A strange sense of loss pierced her at the lack of resistance. There was no reaction at all. She latched onto the fact that his hand was still warm, and that she was trying to help. 

Sinking into a joint meditation with an unfamiliar sentient was more difficult than Ahsoka had anticipated. The Togruta reached out to Master Che, tentatively looking at her in the Force. The signature was warm, kind, and very inviting; it was also stubborn and wise, with a hidden steeliness to it. Like Obi-wan, she realized vaguely. She pushed the thought away, centering on their mutual desire to help Obi-wan. Together they leaned into the Force, and Master Che guided her to the first wall protecting Master Obi-wan’s mind. 

It had been partially rebuilt. Ahsoka pictured reaching out and touching it. Not pushing, just gently knocking. At first there was no response to her or Master Che’s calls. 

Ahsoka finally resorted to the equivalent of leaning her forehead against a door. _Please, Obi-wan. I need you. Please._

Again, something splintered. For a terrifying moment Ahsoka wondered if she were the one hurting Obi-wan. Then she was swept away by the devastating current of fractured thoughts and emotion that her gentle prod unleashed.

********

Obi-wan was drowning. How long had he been fighting the ocean of veritable failure? Long enough that he longed for the emptiness to steal him away again. At first, he had waded against the painful memories, opening a channel to shunt the emotion and grief of the memories into the Force. But there was too much. The release almost seemed to form a collection point instead. Obi-wan hung on with grim tenacity and took the barrage. 

He had thought he was past the pain from many of the memories that swirled around him. The figures from his nightmares took turns rising up out of his memory pool. His recent realizations opened new wounds in the memories, bleeding out further misery. The figments of his nightmares surrounded him, towering over him and fixing him with their disappointed stares. Their voices blended with his own thoughts, creating a whirlwind that he couldn’t begin to decipher or control. He hunkered down and let it wash over him. 

He deserved it. 

_“You are weak. I will prove to him you are weak!”-- lonely—failure— “We thought you were different.” – Everyone I care for dies—guilt— “I knew there was something off about you from the start.”—Failure even as an outlaw—useless— “the Sith killer”—But Maul didn’t die. And what kind of Jedi gains a title for killing? — “Jedi only make things worse.”— My actions reflect poorly on the entire Order—shame— “You will not understand what I have to do…”—Both padawans under my care fell prey to the Dark—can’t even teach, couldn’t protect them— He failed them, badly—anguish—“Your arrogance will be your downfall”—“I don’t want you.”  
His resolve was crumbling in his hands. Not for the first time in his life, he wondered if he could just release himself into the Force. But would it accept him? A deep-rooted fear worried that it would reject him outright, or worse, accept him reluctantly. He pushed the fear into the Force and took the next wave.  
“Master Kenobi, you disappoint me.”—exhausted—Why do they expect so much from me? I can’t do it. Can’t, not good enough, letting them down— 212 dead Jedi on Geonosis. Because I got myself captured.—Stupid—pain—Why did they come for me?—Should have died instead—it hurts—Not enough, too much, take up less space, he needed to shrink—How can I have so much awe for the beauty of the galaxy and yet not want to live in it?—‘cuz I don’t contribute anything to it—grim acceptance—despair— Councilor, Master, Negotiator, High General, and still he couldn’t get it right-- “pitiful”-- What was he good for?_

_Die Jedi, die Jedi, die Jedi, die, die, DIE, Die, DIE JEDI_

“Enough!” Obi-wan howled. But the phantoms surrounding him continued, and he turned, taking in the vast number of them, feeling very, very small. Broken. Don’t let them see. He bound the pain up tight within himself, let the phantoms rage, but shielded it from anyone around him as best he could. 

His presence was worse than poison. No matter his efforts, that didn’t seem to change. The least he could do was minimize the damage to others. So he fiercely tightened his shields, refusing to let the monsters out.

_Master Obi-wan?_

Ahsoka? 

She sounded upset, almost. His first instinct was to help. But no, no, all he’d ever wanted to do was help, and where had that gotten anyone? They were better off without him. Obi-wan curled himself more tightly inside his shields. 

_Please, Obi-wan, I need you._

No, padawan. You don’t. No one does. You are capable and wise beyond your years. 

_Please._

She was distraught. He lowered his shields a fraction, just long enough to go to her. 

*******

The tide pushed Ahsoka right out of meditation. When her eyes opened, she was unsurprised to find that her cheeks were wet. Her grip tightened around Master Kenobi’s hand. She had learned more about her grandmaster’s life in that brief glimpse, felt more turmoil and pain than she believed possible. 

There was a faint crease between Obi-wan’s brows now. Ahsoka looked at Master Che as the monitoring devices changed their pattern for an instant. 

“Oh, Obi,” the healer whispered, leaning forward and gently cupping his cheek in her palm. The monitors beeped again, and Master Che sat back. Her dark eyes met Ahsoka’s. They were also filled with tears. “He’s waking up.” 

Ahsoka nodded, wiping at her eyes with one hand. The other still clung to Master Obi-wan’s. “Will he be all right?” she whispered. 

“I don’t know,” Master Che said simply. She met Ahsoka’s eyes again. “But I believe so. Obi-wan has a habit of beating the odds. He’s stubborn that way. I should know, he’s been here often enough.” 

Ahsoka only nodded at the attempt to make her smile. The glimpses into her grandmaster’s past had shown her more suffering than she had ever known. He had been tortured, rejected, faced Sith and loss and faced things so Dark a mere foretaste frightened her. And each time, he seemed to come out of it stronger. More kind. More Light. 

The rejection after the Hardeen mission had hurt him deeply. She had seen it. Felt a portion of it. But it didn’t break him, not really. He had continued to push on, doing his best, resolutely doing whatever was asked, doing more. Doing what he thought was best for those around him, though his conclusions and reasons for doing so sent a pang through Ahsoka. 

No, it wasn’t Sith, or torture, stress, or pain hadn’t caused Master Kenobi’s shields to break. It was kindness. Kindness and love that he sincerely believed he didn’t deserve.  
We have to fix that, she thought as she watched him wake. 

It took several minutes for him to fully return to them. _Shame-guilt-panic-lonely-failure_ leached into the Force around him as he slowly gained consciousness. Ahsoka concentrated, trying to wrap him in love and comfort. 

His eyelids fluttered open, revealing blue-grey eyes filled with confusion, then guilt. “Ahsoka?” he whispered. His projected emotions were cut off abruptly. His eyes slid away from hers. 

“We are in the halls of healing,” Master Che said gently. 

Obi-wan considered that for a moment, taking in the equipment and assessing his body for injury. “Why?” he asked finally. “I’m fine.” 

Ahsoka flinched. Fine? He called _that_ fine? “We were worried about you, Master,” the Togruta said. She squeezed his hand gently. 

“Oh. I’m sorry,” Obi-wan whispered. His eyes closed. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” The apology spilled from him over and over. Instinctively, she knew it wasn’t just to her. She had seen some of the phantoms haunting his mind. 

“You don’t need to be sorry for living, Obi-wan,” Master Che said firmly. The Jedi Master’s eyes flicked to hers in disbelief. The healer stood. “You will stay here until the Mind Healers say so,” she said. 

Neither of them missed the spike of anxiety and alarm. “Not necessary,” Obi-wan said automatically. “I wouldn’t want to inconvenience—” 

Master Che’s voice broke. “You are _never_ an inconvenience, Obi-wan.” The ferocity of the words silenced him, and Master Che softened again. “I will be back soon to enjoy your company.” 

The healer left, and Obi-wan turned his bewildered expression to the padawan beside him. “Ahsoka? You were distressed. What happened? Is Anakin alright? Did—”  
Ahsoka cut him off. “Anakin is fine. So are the men. They finished the battle and will be back to Coruscant soon.” 

Master Kenobi smiled tiredly. “Then what disturbed you? I felt it, a few minutes ago. And before . . .” 

Ahsoka didn’t know what to say. He seemed so normal. But she knew the pain he carried inside now. She couldn’t understand it all. “I just needed you here with us,” she said finally. Hopefully, she sent a tentative question toward him. Obi-wan hesitated for an instant. Then he agreed. 

Ahsoka hugged him. “We need you, Master,” she whispered in his ear. “We need _you_.”


	3. Chapter 3

He’d been doing a lot of sleeping. This was the second day since he had woken up in the Halls of Healing. Ahsoka had stayed for a long time, until Master Che had finally convinced her to go rest in an actual bed. Vokara had stayed for a while, but after a while Obi-wan had pretended to sleep and she had snuck out. He should probably feel bad, but he had then actually fallen asleep, so maybe he didn't. 

Obi-wan stared at the ceiling. Ordinarily, he would have been long gone from the medical hall by now. But getting out of bed required more energy than he could summon at the moment. 

When had he gotten so weak? There was nothing physically wrong with him. He was better than this. He should be able to at least get out of bed, instead of sitting here, useless, and inconveniencing the medical staff. He was supposed to be helping with the war effort, not reclining in bed while others bled and died. He was just being dramatic; getting out of bed didn’t take energy. _Come on, Kenobi._

But he couldn’t do it. 

The failure triggered the hurricane inside him. _Die Jedi._

Obi-wan closed his eyes and turned his head on the pillow, as if he would be able to drown out the voice. He knew, in the back of his mind, that many of the thoughts were illogical. But the emotions. Even with the jagged edges dulled by lethargy, they made him feel raw and bleeding inside. 

Obi-wan pulled in a ragged breath. No. He didn’t _get to_ feel like this. Unlike many in the galaxy, he didn’t have a _reason_ to feel this way. He had friends, purpose, and his physical needs were all taken care of through the Jedi Order. He got to travel and see some of the most incredible things in the galaxy. He tried to help people, and—

 _You’re the Jedi that makes things worse._ The visceral twisting in his chest was like a key turning in a lock. Just like that, the phantoms of his turmoil rose up to haunt him. 

_No noo nonono_

It was panic, and fear. Like Zigoola had taken up residence in his head. _Release them. Come on, every Jedi can do it. Pathetic…_

Obi-wan slipped into a light meditation. His emotions were controlling him, keeping them from doing his duty. If he could just let go… 

He went to war with the demons. 

They were determined to beat him into submission. And he was so tired. 

Obi-wan’s body lay in the Halls of Healing, seemingly in a peaceful sleep. He didn’t stir. He didn’t notice the two familiar Force signatures in his doorway until one of them cleared their throat. 

“Obi-wan?”

His eyes fluttered open. “Anakin?” 

“It’s us, Master Kenobi,” a younger female voice chimed in. 

Ahsoka. Shame flushed away the grayness that had overtaken him for the past few hours. They knew. They knew how little it took to bring him down. He was supposed to be stronger than this. At least try to be a good example for his grandpadawan. And now she would always see him as broken. 

*******

Obi-wan was pale. Anakin studied his old master, astonished that his face could be so serene when he was practically oozing pain and _shame._ Quick as a flash, the emotions disappeared like they had been tucked away. Or erased. 

Obi-wan smiled at Ahsoka. It was a threadbare smile, but real. “Welcome back,” he said to the Togruta. “Did you rest well?” 

“Yes,” Ahsoka said, pulling over a second chair. “How are you feeling?” 

Anakin sat at Obi-wan’s bedside as his master gave the lie everyone told: “I’m fine.” 

“Right.” Anakin ran a hand through his hair. “Obi-wan, what _happened?_ You wouldn’t wake up, and…” 

Force. He didn’t know how to bring up what Ahsoka had seen in Obi-wan’s mind. She had told him on the way here the basics of what had happened. She didn’t tell him everything—he knew because the Togruta had pressed her lips together and shook her head—and insisted they speak with Master Che before coming to see Obi-wan. 

Anakin still hadn’t absorbed everything the head healer had told them. Anakin was the one that had a hard time releasing his emotions. Obi-wan was the objective, logical one. A deep part of Anakin that was still angry with the Jedi Master wanted to ask if Obi-wan understood how it felt to hurt inside, now. But the way Master Che had talked, there was something going on in Obi-wan’s mind that went deeper than grief. And the look that Master Che had shared with Ahsoka had been troubling. 

It stirred dread and worry in Anakin. They had looked like Obi-wan was in terrible danger. 

“I haven’t been sleeping well of late,” Obi-wan answered, pulling Anakin from his thoughts. “I suppose my body just decided it had had enough and took a nap.” 

Anakin frowned. The half-truth was so like the ginger-haired Negotiator. Obi-wan was the master of deceptive maneuvers, on and off the battlefield. He was telling a half truth, admitting to a lesser problem to evade the bigger question. 

“Then what are you still doing here?” he asked, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice. “Usually it takes a whole med team to keep you in medical.” 

“Every once in a while I like to shake things up a bit,” Obi-wan said lightly. “Keep them on their toes.” He didn’t give Anakin time to ask anything else. “Tell me about the campaign,” he requested. 

More deflection. But Obi-wan’s eyes were almost pleading with him, so Anakin went along with it. He gave a sketch of the mission, assuring his master that the 212th had done their part well. 

“They always do,” Obi-wan murmured. The shadows around his eyes made the irises look more gray. His voice was small as he said, “I don’t deserve them.” 

Anakin’s heart dropped. “They’re good men,” he agreed cautiously. “But what do you mean, you don’t deserve them?” 

Obi-wan winced. Noticeably. He clearly hadn’t meant to say the last part out loud. “I—they—they deserve someone who— better—” 

Obi-wan was nearly incoherent, and. Anakin exchanged a look with Ahsoka. The Force around his master conveyed discomfort. 

Ahsoka leaned forward, reaching for one of Obi-wan’s hands. “Master Kenobi, your men think very highly of you,” she said gently. “They wouldn’t want anyone else as their General.” 

“Perhaps, _before_ ,” Obi-wan said painfully. “But they don’t know any better. They didn’t know I’m so—” he choked off, head ducking. _Broken,_ he projected to them. 

Anakin held back a gasp. The word was accompanied with what Anakin could only describe as despair. “No,” he said, scooting closer to Obi-wan. “You’re not. You’re just tired, and everyone is still adjusting to—to what happened. It’ll get better. I promise.” He laid his flesh hand just above where Ahsoka was still holding the ginger’s hand. 

Obi-wan wouldn’t look up. “I can’t talk about this right now.” His voice was shaking. 

_Helplessness-useless-failure-shame_

Anakin stood in alarm, throwing his arms around his master, pulling him forward into the embrace. Obi-wan was trembling as more of his turmoil was revealed. He tensed at Anakin’s touch, then slumped into it. 

“I’m sorry,” Obi-wan whispered. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…” 

The reflexive phrase broke Ahsoka’s heart. 

“Sshhh,” Anakin said, loosening his hold so Obi-wan could pull back if he wanted to. He was relieved when the older Jedi didn’t. At least not right away. Obi-wan's head stayed resting on Anakin's shoulder, allowing his apprentice to hold him up. 

Anakin met Ahsoka’s eyes. Frankly, it was alarming to see Obi-wan in such a state. His master was struggling to pull himself together, but Anakin still caught glimpses of self-loathing and loneliness. _Misery—failed the Order’s teachings— “I don’t want you”—If he could just get one thing right—embarrassment—better off without me_

Anakin realized with horror that some of the words were his. Words he had spoken in anger, when he wanted Obi-wan to hurt as much as he had. He didn’t want Obi-wan to hurt anymore. 

“I didn’t mean it,” he whispered in Obi-wan’s ear. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it.” 

Obi-wan stiffened, but Anakin wouldn’t let go. He didn’t want to look in his master’s face right now. He breathed deeply and let it out slowly, trying to get Obi-wan to sync his still-shuddering breaths. 

“I know you didn’t,” Obi-wan said finally. He sounded drained. This time when he pulled back, Anakin let him. Obi-wan sank into the pillows behind his back, face drawn. He wasn't meeting their eyes. 

“None of that is true, you know,” Anakin said finally. “You’re the best Jedi I know. You get a lot of things right.” 

“And we definitely aren’t better off without you,” Ahsoka added softly. The Togruta’s eyes were large. “We all know that. And it was very clear while you were away. Even after, when we were mad.” 

Obi-wan flushed as he realized he had been projecting such personal thoughts and emotions. But Ahsoka pushed love and affection toward him, lacing it with her admiration for him. 

Realizing what Ahsoka was doing, Anakin combined her efforts with his. He could see Obi-wan didn’t believe their words. The Jedi Master had withdrawn within himself again, looking bewildered by the affection and warmth. Anakin wrapped comfort around his master, trying to chase away the lingering doubts. 

Obi-wan eventually drifted into sleep. Ahsoka tiptoed from the room, but Anakin stayed behind for a moment. He looked down at Obi-wan, seeing the lines around his master’s eyes and between his brow. He brushed a lock of auburn hair away from the pale face. Seeing Obi-wan so vulnerable was a new experience. He had always been so in control, helping Anakin work through his own issues. 

“We’ll fix this,” he said to the sleeping man. “Like you always do for me. We’ll get through this. Together, like we always do.” He turned in the doorway, promising himself he would be back as soon as he had reported to the rest of the Council about his mission. “We’re a team,” he whispered. “I need you, Obi-wan. Don’t you dare leave me.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: brief vague discussion of suicide

Mace clasped his hands behind his back, looking out the council room window at the blushing sunset. It was unusual for him to do so with so many council members present. But this was not a formal meeting, and Mace had no intention of approaching this problem that way. This was a meeting of friends. 

“This is not a business meeting, I presume?” Kit Fisto spoke up. 

Mace turned to face the room. Masters Fisto, Ti, Koon, and Gallia were there, Ti and Koon through holo. Skywalker and Tano hovered nearby. “No. This is about Obi-wan.” Mace gestured for Obi-wan’s padawans to step into the holo projector’s range, and waited while the two bowed. 

A brisk knock at the door told him that Vokara had arrived. Hardly a beat passed before the door swung open and the Twi’lek healer strode inside. 

“Master Che,” Mace said respectfully. “Thank you for joining us. You had something you wished to share with us? 

The healer nodded. “Yes. Master Kenobi has been cleared to resume full duty.” 

Plo nodded. “He has become more like himself lately. It is a relief to see.” 

Vokara nodded. “Yes. Obi-wan has a strong mind. He has pulled himself from the brink and toward a healthier mindset at a frankly impressive rate.” 

Mace heard something in the twi’lek’s tone. He crossed his arms. “But?” he prompted. 

The healer gave them a level look. “Such a mental state does not simply arise from nowhere. It is likely a problem that he has had for a very long time. He may still be fragile. With the strength of his shielding, it is difficult to say whether or not he is truly healing.” 

“Obi-wan is not weak,” Anakin growled. 

Vokara met the glare unfazed. “I never said he was, Skywalker,” she said pointedly. “Just the opposite, in fact. I am merely stating that Obi-wan has a long-established thought process. He has been fighting through it by himself for a long time. He knows how to deal with it. But he has been under significant stress ever since the war started, physically as well as mentally. Recent circumstances sent him into a spiral.” The healer held up a hand, forestalling Mace’s words. “I am well aware of the necessity,” she said. “The war is not kind. I merely wish to inform you that after such a spiral, it will be easier for Obi-wan to do so again.” 

Anakin shifted uneasily, exchanging looks with Ahsoka. 

“Thank you, Master Che,” Mace said, dipping his head. “Is there anything else?” 

“No. Other than it is nice to see some of you not inside my Halls.” 

Mace smiled faintly. “You as well.” As soon as the doo closed behind the twi’lek, Mace turned to the others. 

“We will keep an eye on Obi-wan as much as possible,” Adi said, anticipating Mace’s words. The others nodded agreement, thinking of their youngest Council member and good friend. Mace Windu’s perceptive eye turned to Padawan Tano as she clearly thought better of saying something.

“Yes, padawan?” 

Ahsoka shot a glance at her master before gathering her thoughts. “It’s a good idea to support Master Kenobi.” Now that the togruta was speaking, she seemed more confident. Mace smiled inwardly to see it but concentrated carefully on the padawan’s words. “I’m happy so many will be looking out for him. It’s just, he will hate it if he knows about it. He sees himself as an inconvenience, and he doesn’t want to be a liability.” 

“So we will have to be careful,” Master Fisto agreed. He turned his wide eyes to Ahsoka. “But how do you know this, young one?” 

Ahsoka wasn’t sure how many were aware of her presence when Master Obi-wan came out of his coma-like state. “I felt it,” she said simply. 

Mace Windu studied her. _This one is no longer a child._ He nodded to her, letting her know he understood. _She's going to have an important role in the things to come. Whatever that future may be._

**********

It was peaceful here. The light beyond his eyelids had waned, but the air was still warm. He could hear the faintest rustling of the leaves overhead, and the light splashing of the fountains. He could sense the Force strongly here. It seemed to dance, jostling the grasses and skimming the trees, weaving amidst every living life form. 

A faint smile touched Obi-wan’s lips as he slowly came out of his meditation. The appointments with the mind healers had lessened of late, and he had been cleared to resume full duty. Taking charge of the 7th Sky Corps had been a relief, if he was being honest. The productivity helped, and he had found his energy levels increasing. The nightmares were less frequent, as were the paralyzing attacks of panic and helplessness. 

Though he was no longer meditating, he kept his eyes closed, soaking in the moment. It was nice to just be here, surrounded by the awe and contentment of the gardens. 

“There you are, old man.” 

The flash of irritation shattered the peace and contentment he had found. Obi-wan’s eyes opened slowly. He steadied himself with a breath. _No. You aren’t like that. There is no reason to be annoyed. Don’t be so selfish. Besides, it’s Anakin._

Obi-wan forced a smile. By the time Anakin had settled beside him, the smile was genuine. “Padawan,” he teased. “Where is Ahsoka?” 

“Finishing up some class work while we are here. We’ll be shipping out in the morning.” 

Obi-wan nodded. He watched Anakin out of the corner of his eye. The young knight had settled himself with one knee up, resting one arm there, with the other leg extended. Even in the visibility of twilight, Obi-wan could see the way Anakin’s eyes remained lowered and the way his thumb rubbed against his fingertips. The young man clearly had something on his mind, but Obi-wan didn’t press him. 

In truth, he had an idea what it might be about. An inkling of irritation returned at the thought of being treated differently now even by his apprentice. He dispelled it, shifting backward and stretching his own legs out. He flexed his feet, waiting for Anakin to speak. 

Their surroundings took on a rosy orange color as the twinkling lights of heavy civilization became the primary source of light. Obi-wan had just decided that he would have to ask Anakin directly about his concern when the younger Jedi spoke. 

“You’re a great master,” he started. “I couldn’t ask for better.” 

Obi-wan's eyes widened in surprise. 

“You are wise and respected,” Anakin continued. “You know dozens of languages, and know how to relate to others better than anyone I know. You are powerful in the ways of the Force and in combat. Everything I know about being a Jedi, I learned from you.” 

“Everything?” Obi-wan asked, trying to hide his embarrassment. “I don’t believe I come up with nearly as many crazy schemes as you do, my friend.” 

The corner of Anakin’s mouth quirked up. “It’s my specialty.” Then we waved the joking aside. “But that’s not my point.” 

The seriousness captured Obi-wan’s attention. Anakin was twitching his mechanical fingers again, he saw. “I appreciate the kindness, Anakin.” 

Anakin looked up, features tightening. “It’s the truth. So how can you believe all those negative things about yourself?”

Ah, there it was. 

Obi-wan centered himself, reviewing some of the things he had reviewed with the healers. “It’s a thought pattern,” he said, keeping his eyes on the tips of his boots. “Such thoughts occur to everyone at one time or another. I just let them overtake my focus.” 

“But they aren’t true,” Anakin insisted. “Come on, ‘I can’t get anything right’? You’re smart enough to know that’s not real. So how can you believe it?” 

Obi-wan bit back the familiar resurgence of feelings that arose whenever someone wanted to talk about this. He would do so much better if he could just _not talk about it._ But this was Anakin, and Obi-wan knew his former apprentice was sincerely trying to understand, in his own way. 

Obi-wan searched for words, trying to put it in terms Anakin would understand. He gestured to Anakin’s gloved hand. “You still experience phantom pain and sensations from your missing limb,” he said. 

Anakin nodded, unsure about the direction change. “Sometimes.” 

“You _know_ the hand is missing. It can’t send pain to your brain anymore. The pain isn’t real. Yet you still feel it.” He watched comprehension dawn on Anakin’s face. “It feels very real, doesn’t it? It still hurts, even though there is no reason for it to hurt anymore.” 

Anakin nodded, but still seemed deep in thought. After several quiet seconds he ducked his head. “Master Che said you were cleared for duty. But she also said you might still be… hurting.” 

Obi-wan didn’t want to lie. But he didn’t want everyone to view him differently now, either. “It’s a thought pattern,” he said again. “It’s a mental illness that makes my heart hurt.” He sighed, returning to the previous analogy. He didn’t like to think about the time immediately after Anakin lost his hand to Dooku. “When you first lost your hand, the pain was sometimes overwhelming.” 

Anakin was quick to agree. “I couldn’t think past it sometimes.” 

“My… difficulty. It’s the same,” Obi-wan said simply. He tilted his head so as to see Anakin better. “Fortunately, with the mechanical hand and exercises, you learned to manage the pain. I know it’s still there sometimes,” he said softly. “My difficulty will be the same way.” 

Anakin mulled it over. “I understand, I suppose.” 

“I am sorry to have worried you, Anakin. And,” Obi-wan hesitated. Did he really want to bring up the Hardeen mission? No. But he forged ahead anyway, because Anakin had willingly chosen to come and talk. “And I am sorry that the Hardeen deception wounded you. Thank you for forgiving me.” 

“It’s done,” Anakin said gruffly. “I just don’t—” He pulled his knees in, hugging his arms around them. “I just don’t want to lose you again,” he said softly. 

Obi-wan felt a pang. “Someday, you will,” he reminded gently. “That is not for us to decide. As for the current difficulty, I am getting better. Relearning to manage the pain.” He took a deep breath, seeing the worry that still stiffened the line of Anakin’s shoulders. “I promise, I will never join the Force by purposeful means.” 

Anakin nodded. They sat in silence for a while. The Room of a Thousand Fountains was peaceful. 

******

Many systems away, a large ship touched down and extended its ramp, revealing two strangers to the village. 

“Why are we here?” Savage asked, looking out at the rooftops of the small village. 

The second, smaller zabrack smiled, certain of his plan. His “noble” enemy would be here soon. “In a galaxy at war, there is only one way to get the attention of the Jedi,” Maul told his brother. He smiled at the village children that gathered to peer at the newcomers with curiosity. “Slaughter of the innocent.”

His saber rolled in his hand for a moment before he ignited it.


	5. Chapter 5

Obi-wan looked up at the soft knock at his door. He pushed aside the sudden dread and irritation—when would that go away, he was _better_ now—and went to answer it. He wasn’t expecting to find his grandpadawan outside. 

He was instantly alert. “Ahsoka? What’s wrong?” 

Ahsoka shrugged, looking a little sheepish. “Nothing. I just wanted to see you before Master Skywalker and I leave.” 

Obi-wan hesitated, glancing at the chrono. It was late, but not exceptionally so. “Come on in.” He stood back as the togruta entered, then gestured to the sofa. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. Were you sleeping?” Ahsoka asked, noting the dimness of the lights. She didn’t sit. 

Obi-wan shook his head. “No, just meditating and going over reports.” He left the door open on the off chance Anakin came by as well. 

“Trouble sleeping?” Obi-wan guessed. It wouldn’t be uncommon the night before another deployment. They had all learned to take sleep where they could get it, but being on a warfront often led to light sleepers. And other sleep problems.

“Sort of.” Ahsoka shuffled her feet. She glanced up at him, then looked away. She kept her hands clasped in front of her. There was something on her mind, and Obi-wan’s mind flashed through several possibilities. 

“Are you sure nothing is wrong?” Obi-wan asked in concern. It was unlike the Togruta to be so reticent-- shy almost. He sighed internally but didn’t bother asking where Anakin was. 

“I don’t know,” Ahsoka confessed. “I was meditating after my lessons, but lately I’ve felt something… in the Force…” 

Obi-wan nodded. There had been subtle shifts in the Force of late, beyond those caused by the war. “Can you describe what you feel?” he asked. 

Ahsoka knelt on the ground, sitting back on her heels in a meditation position. Obi-wan followed her lead. He closed his eyes, letting his senses reach out. He brushed against Ahsoka’s signature, looking at her through the Force.

He smiled at the unexpected surge of pride. She was bright, full of energy and potential. She had a fighting spirit, full of fire for so many of the right things. Her fire was tempered, though; she was a dedicated student, and he knew her desire to help others was strong. She was compassionate, observant, and gentle when it counted. Looking at her now, the Force told him Ahsoka was going to be an important piece of the galaxy’s future. 

“It’s uncertain,” she said softly, not opening her eyes. “The… nudges are small. Things could change at any moment. But somewhere, if feels almost …cold. Sinister, somehow. And…” Ahsoka’s voice trailed off. Obi-wan looked up at her to find her blue eyes were seeking his own. “I’m not sure, but I think it is somehow connected to you.” Her voice was scarcely a whisper by the end. 

Obi-wan nodded. Master Yoda had recently spoken to Obi-wan about an old enemy possibly returning. Ahsoka was strong in the unifying Force, as Obi-wan himself was. He knew she had experienced visions at least once. 

“Master Obi-wan? What does it mean?” She was searching his face. 

Obi-wan stood and settled on the small sofa. He gave the place next to him a pat, inviting her to sit beside him. This time she did, but he could see the pinch of worry in her eyes and between her facial markings. 

_Concern? For him? Was he reading that right?_

“Do you remember the time before the war?” Obi-wan started. 

Ahsoka’s lips twisted in a wry smile. “Of course. It wasn’t even three years ago, Master.” 

Obi-wan smiled. “Just had to be sure. You were such a little thing then,” he teased. He sobered as he gathered his thoughts. “You were not a padawan yet, so you won’t have been on the standard Jedi assignments. Even before the war, the life of a Jedi could be very dangerous.” 

Ahsoka nodded dutifully, but he could see that she was skeptical. 

“It’s true,” he insisted. “And my master traveled even more extensively than required by missions. Sometimes I thought his goal was to be the first to visit every star and planet in the galaxy. Even the most benign assignments somehow ended up with some kind of complication.” _No thanks to you. Qui-gon must have truly despaired over you._ Obi-wan swallowed at the lump that rose in this throat, crowding such thoughts out of his mind by focusing on Ahsoka’s earnest expression. 

“During that time, we encountered a lot of hostile situations. I’ve made enemies.” He rested one hand on her shoulder briefly. “You are not alone in feeling this disturbance in the Force,” he reassured her. “Master Yoda and I have discussed a few possible meanings, but it is uncertain.” He smiled at her. “It is impressive that one as young as you are able to listen to the Force so well. It is a skill that will always guide you.” 

She straightened, and Obi-wan was about to suggest making some tea to help her sleep when Ahsoka abruptly leaned into him. She threw her arms around his neck and buried her face into his shoulder. Obi-wan’s arms were suddenly filled with hugging Togruta. 

“Please be careful, Master Obi-wan,” Ahsoka whispered. “My life is better with you in it.” 

_What?_ Time seemed to freeze. He felt fragile but bolstered at the same time. It didn’t make any sense, but there it was, warm and comforting. He returned the hug with one arm, and when Ahsoka pulled back, she was grinning. 

“I think I need to hear more about some of these eventful missions you had as a padawan.” Untwisting so she was sitting normally on the couch, she gave him an expectant, pleading look. 

Obi-wan huffed a laugh. “Fine.” He stood up and retrieved a blanket. He handed it to Ahsoka, and she spread it over her lap as he sat down again beside her. 

“About a year into my apprenticeship with Qui-gon, we stopped on Yavin IV. It’s a beautiful moon, warm and with lots of jungles. It’s also not very populated and has some unique predators. Master Jinn wanted to look inside some of the lost temples….”

It didn’t take long for Ahsoka’s eyes to flutter shut. Her head slumped onto his shoulder. Obi-wan let his voice fade into silence. He waited a beat, but the Togruta remained asleep, curled up against his side. 

_“My life is better with you in it.” Was that really what she said?_ It filled him with wonder. Perhaps he was the one dreaming. 

Obi-wan carefully extricated himself, cushioning Ahsoka’s head as he lowered her the rest of they way. She was sound asleep. Obi-wan pulled the blanket up to cover her a little wistfully. The peacefulness of her sleep reminded him how young she really was. 

Moving quietly, Obi-wan left a message for Anakin to let him know where Ahsoka was. He noticed a missed communication and went out into the hall to listen to it.   
It was from Mace. “Obi-wan, the Council has received a message that you need to see.” 

Apprehension swept in. Mace sounded stressed. Or, more stressed than usual. Whatever the message said, it couldn’t be good. Obi-wan noted the time and location from the transmission. Mace would still be there. 

Obi-wan walked down the hall, wondering what he would find waiting when he arrived.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last update was fluffy. This one is NOT.   
> tw: on screen death of captive  
> tw: sort of panic attack

It couldn’t possibly be Maul. 

That particular red, angry zabrack had been dead for ten years. He had been cut in half. Completely. Obi-wan had seen it, seen the Sith fall down the shaft. There wasn’t anything more Obi-wan could have done. And yet, stepping out of the ship onto Raydonia’s dark soil, Obi-wan was filled with dread. 

The Force was disturbed, muddied, as if someone had stirred up the silt of a peaceful pool. Mechanically, Obi-wan walked toward the destroyed village. The closer he got, the worse the dread became. The village was small, and walking down the main street towards a larger burning structure, Obi-wan reached out with the Force. 

_Please, let someone have survived._

The air was still. In the silence, a droid bumped repeatedly into a wall. It made a forlorn noise, as if its programming was aware that something was terribly wrong. Obi-wan powered it down with the Force, not pausing in his step. 

There was a body ahead. A woman. _No. No, this can’t be. Not because of me. I’m too late, too slow. Again, people have suffered because of my mere existence…_ He fought down the panic, focusing on his breaths as he walked past the woman. There was nothing he could do for her now. There was no life Force there. He had to keep going, find any survivors… 

Each structure he passed rang with ominous silence. The flames cracked ahead, where more of the village rested atop a short hill. With each step, the sinkhole of his childhood seemed to pull at his feet. There was so much emptiness, so much wrong, and the air was slightly cold now but—

There. _A survivor? Somewhere behind--_

“Jedi!” 

Obi-wan’s attention was pulled to a figure above him. It was the zabrack from the hologram. Flames leaped behind him, making the form a shadowy silhouette with burning eyes. “I have been waiting for you.” 

Yellow eyes. Cold in the Force. And the legs were clearly mechanical. No, not possible. It takes a really spectacular failure to not kill someone by cutting them in half. Obi-wan tried to discount such thoughts. Don’t jump to conclusions. Be here and now. “I’m not sure I’ve made your acquaintance.” 

The hatred in the zabrack’s voice chilled Obi-wan further. “I am surprised you have forgotten me so easily after I killed your master and you left me for dead on Naboo.”  
It was him. Maul. 

Obi-wan slammed his mental shields closed. _Failed-- Qui-gon died and I shouldn’t have been knighted-grief-“Focus on the here and now, padawan.”_ Obi-wan released his growing panic into the Force and re-focused. 

“…the depths I would go to, to stay alive, fueled by my singular hatred for you,” the Sith hissed. 

_Prove yourself,_ Obi-wan’s mind jeered at him. “That may be so, but I defeated you before and I can defeat you again.” _Not for that reason,_ he reprimanded his thoughts. _As a Jedi. I’ll just have to be more thorough this time._

Maul chuckled, a shuddering dark sound filled with anticipation. The yellow eyes flashed. “Don’t be so certain.” 

There was a noise behind him. Obi-wan turned quickly, igniting his lightsaber and raising it defensively. His stomach dropped as he realized it was the monstrous zabrack, Savage, that had wreaked such havoc a few span ago. The giant held a struggling woman in his grasp. 

_How could I not sense them?_ Obi-wan’s thoughts screamed. “Let her go,” he said evenly. The woman’s feet swung in the air, and her eyes landed on him, desperate tears streaming down her cheeks. 

Savage ignored him, looking up towards Maul. Obi-wan’s gaze followed. _Maul is in charge here,_ he realized with a sinking heart. 

Maul leaped from the hillside, landing with a mechanical clanking. His feet were clawed. As he straightened, Obi-wan had a clearer view of the Sith. His face was lean, lips pulled into a sneer. “Surrender to us,” Maul demanded. 

Obi-wan backed slightly so that he could keep both of them in his sight. He was trapped between them. And the Raydonian woman, she-- 

Savage moved. Obi-wan’s heart stuttered in his chest as he saw the long lightsaber pressed to her neck. One touch of a button, one twitch of Savage’s finger, and the woman would be dead. She sobbed in fear. 

_'More blood will be on your hands, Kenobi, unless—'_

“Stop it,” Obi-wan said quickly. He could not let her die. _Please, no more._ He disengaged his saber, desperately holding it out to Maul, who had crept close, nearly within reach. Obi-wan surrendered his weapon. 

Maul summoned the lightsaber from Obi-wan’s outstretched palm. He clenched it in his fist, eyes boring into Obi-wan’s. The red-rimmed glare slid past the Jedi to Savage. 

Maul nodded a signal. 

NO! Obi-wan’s mind screamed. His hand shot out, pleading for the Force to do something, pull Savage’s saber away. But it was too late. The captive’s final choking gasps seemed to pull the air from Obi-wan’s own lungs. Horrified, Obi-wan felt paralyzed by the anguish and pain. _Dead. His fault._

Maul lunged, pushing Obi-wan forward. He staggered but caught himself. His heart thudded painfully, nausea rolling in his stomach. Smoke was thick in the air, cloying and burning his senses, and there were bodies at his feet. They were all dead _because of him_ and he couldn’t get enough air, he couldn’t _breathe!_

The panic was back, engulfing him wholly. _Guilt—useless— couldn’t even save one—Now’s your chance, use the Force, escape!_ But it was too much. All of his carefully crafted defenses were crumbling, and the accusing stares of the dead were staring him in the face. _Die, Jedi._ He felt hands on him and lashed out, struggling, but his lungs still didn’t seem to be working. His breaths were too fast, too shallow. Black spots swam across his vision. 

Savage pinned the Jedi’s arms behind his back as Obi-wan collapsed to his knees. Someone, Maul, threaded fingers in Obi-wan’s hair and pulled. His head was yanked down, exposing the back of his neck. Maul crouched in front of him, leaning in close with a satisfied smirk. Dazed, Obi-wan tried to pull away. 

“This world has burned,” Maul murmured in his ear, “because of you.” 

Mace Windu paced back and forth in his small quarters. There had been no word from Obi-wan. Kenobi had checked in after leaving hyperspace, before approaching Raydonia. That had been seemingly ages ago. Mace had worried about showing Obi-wan the holo message to begin with, but sending him _alone_ to deal with such a threat… Mace himself wouldn't have gone alone. 

Yoda had sensed the need for Obi-wan to prove to himself, and assured Mace that Obi-wan would not be alone. It was an interesting piece to the situation, but capturing the threat could lead them to the Sith Lord hidden in the Senate, or possibly help defeat Dooku. Mace trusted Obi-wan. He did. Kenobi was the one sent on many of the most vital missions and campaigns, after all. But with the strain Obi-wan had been under? Mace should have gone with him. 

Mace turned again, his pace increasing in agitation. It had been too long. Ordinarily, it would not be at all worrying if Kenobi did not check in. But right now, it indicated something grim. 

_After all,_ Mace wondered uneasily, _if it was Maul, what sort of power had the Sith accessed to remain alive? What else was he capable of?_

Making the decision, he commed his commander. 

“Prepare a company for takeoff. We are deploying for a possible rescue mission within the hour.” 

“Right away, sir.” 

Mace signed off, then closed his eyes. The dark ripples in the Force were still there. Despite his familiarity with facing the Dark, Mace shivered at what that might mean.


	7. Chapter 7

The pain was strangely grounding. Obi-wan had been manhandled into the hold of a large flagship. Thoughts of escape were difficult when simply breathing was his number one priority. Maul’s barbed taunts had rolled off him then, his brain too dizzy to fully comprehend them. It did not escape his notice, however, that many of them echoed his inner critic. 

The combined effects were paralyzing. And he condemned himself for it. 

By the time they were aboard the zabracks’ flagship, Obi-wan had regained control of his breathing. His sense of dread increased as he realized Maul was studying him, a nasty grin on his face. 

“This is going to be easier than I thought,” he said with glee. “How pathetic.” 

Obi-wan still warred with his thoughts. _He’s right. Pathetic. No, what else could I have done? Should have thought of something—_ His wave of nausea was accompanied with a shove from Maul that sent him sprawling. _Get a grip, pay attention! Here and now._ Obi-wan looked up at Maul, head still spinning as he released his panicked concerns to the Force. His eyes refocused, his mind centering on his current situation. He couldn’t let Maul know how vulnerable he was right now. He channeled most of his remaining energy to shielding his mind. 

He got to his feet, speaking as he did so to hide his trembling. “Are you quite finished? I don't remember you being so fond of your own voice.” 

Maul came at him with a feral snarl. Obi-wan dodged as many blows as he could, but he couldn’t avoid them all. Maul was taller now, his legs impervious to pain, and Obi-wan was exhausted from battling the despondent grayness that wanted to settle in the panic’s place. 

_Stupid. You’re not a match for him. Too weak._ Maul caught Obi-wan by the throat, lifting him up in the air before tossing him sideways. Obi-wan flew across the hold, knocking several crates aside in a tumbling stop. He wheezed once, shaking his head to clear the spots from his vision. 

Several bruises later, Obi-wan was flung into a crate, its edge cracking against his abdomen. It was fitting that he die here, by the hand of one of his greatest failures. Hs mind flashed to Anakin and Ahsoka and how they would have to come to terms with his death-- _‘My life is better with you in it.’ Ah. Had she meant it?_ He’d better fight back then, with what meager tools he had. 

“You know, when I cut you in half, I should have aimed for your neck instead,” he decided. 

A snarl, and then Savage was flipping him by the ankle into the air, flinging him back toward Maul. Obi-wan landed hard on his back, the wind knocked out of him. Someone kicked his leg lightly, and then Obi-wan looked up to see Maul looming over him. 

“I sense fear in you, Kenobi,” Maul sneered. He bent close. “You have already been tearing yourself apart,” he said. Delight at the realization made him throw back his head in a brief laugh. “Did you finally realize the truth, Kenobi? That you are _nothing._ Pitiful. Does your precious Order know? But then they must. So eager to be rid of you… they sent you alone, after all.” 

_Shield, you fool. Don’t let him get to you._ Obi-wan swallowed back the bitter taste in his mouth. “You make a lot of noise for someone who says nothing.” 

Maul was a blur of movement. Obi-wan again found himself draped over a crate, pain slamming through him in waves. The numbness kept trying to overtake him. Pushing through it was becoming exhausting. 

“Anything else to say?” Maul growled. 

“I like your new legs. They make you look taller.” Obi-wan was trembling again. He didn’t know how he was going to get out of this. But by the stars, he was going to go down fighting with whatever was left of himself.


	8. Chapter 8

Mace wasn’t prepared for what he saw when their ships landed on Raydonia. In the hologram, the zabrack had clearly displayed his ruthless tendency toward the Dark. None of the captives shown had remained alive. But Mace hadn’t thought it would be this bad. 

There was nothing living. The Force around the village reminisced grief and silence. Most of the structures had been demolished. The 137th battalion had sent out scouting squadrons, but the reports were all coming back the same: no survivors, and no sign of either Obi-wan or the zabrack. 

Mace stared at the devastation and the bodies that he could see. His eyes were hard, mouth set in a thin line. From where he stood, Mace stared at a small pair of shoes sticking out from behind a doorway. 

“Sir?” 

Mace turned to face his commander, who was also staring at the devastation. 

“There are lightsaber wounds. Was this… was this Ventress?” 

Mace shook his head. “No. Another darksider.” The Jedi Master frowned, sifting through the Force. “Although…” Was that presence he sensed Ventress? Or was it just because the assassin had been brought up? 

The commander’s commlink crackled. “Sir, General Kenobi just landed in a pod.” 

“An escape pod?” Mace questioned, puzzled. 

“Affirmative. Uh… The assassin Ventress was there too. General Kenobi ordered to let her go. We’re bringing him in. Medical might want to look him over.” 

So he had sensed Ventress. Mace’s features tightened a fraction. _What the blazes happened?_

One foot in front of the other. That was what Obi-wan was trying to focus on as he walked with Windu’s lightning squadron. Not the sharp pain that marked each breath. Not the way the fires were burning down to embers, the smoke curling final eulogies into the sky. And anything but the bodies that were being cleared from the streets. 

_Oh Force._ Obi-wan stumbled, bile clawing up his bruised throat. He could barely see out one eye—it was nearly swollen shut—but he knew there were men, women, _children,_ whole _families,_ innocents! and they had all been _murdered_ because he hadn’t been fast enough getting here and he couldn’t stomach it and the ground was lurching beneath his feet and-- 

He dry-heaved, the spasm sending a stabbing pain through his abdomen. A hand reached out to him, and by force of will Obi-wan straightened before it could touch him. “I’m fine,” he said, steeling his voice so that it wouldn’t tremble. He continued on, the clones trailing silently behind him. 

There would be questions, he knew. The thought made the tremors worse. Resigned, Obi-wan pushed out his anxieties. There were a lot of them. The numbness that resulted was likely as close to peace as he was going to get at the moment. 

“Obi-wan!” 

The familiar voice pulled Obi-wan’s attention back up. It was Mace. He tightened his shields. 

“Master Windu,” Obi-wan said formally. 

“What happened?” 

“That’s a long story,” Obi-wan answered. He wished he had his cloak so he could tuck his hands out of sight. “But I have confirmed… it is Maul.” He stared straight ahead, not looking Mace in the eye. 

“Let’s get you looked at,” Mace said finally. “Then you can tell me about it.” 

He led the way to his ship’s medbay. Obi-wan surrendered himself to a scan. While the medic looked over the results, Obi-wan gave a brief summary, his voice flat.   
“I arrived too late. Maul had already decimated the village. Savage Opress was with him. Apparently, they are brothers. They had a hostage. I couldn’t save her—” his voice threatened to crack— “and they captured me. They took me to their flagship. Ventress rescued me.” 

It was at this point that Mace interrupted. “Asajj Ventress?” he clarified. 

Obi-wan nodded, outwardly ignoring the taps of pain as the medic poked at his bruised ribs. “Yes. She is a bounty hunter now. She was hunting Savage Opress.” He met Windu’s dark eyes now, wanting to make sure that the korun Master understood. “She is different now. Together we escaped in a pod. She brought me back here to retrieve my ship.” 

“And where is she now?” 

“I don’t know,” Obi-wan responded simply. “I didn’t ask where she was going. She is no longer a threat.” 

Obi-wan recognized Mace’s thoughtful expression. He let the Jedi Master think. Truthfully, he was grateful for the silence. All he wanted to do was sleep and forget everything for a while. 

Mace rubbed at his eyes. “So Maul survived and is working with Savage Opress. Ventress is no longer Dooku’s assassin.”

Obi-wan nodded but quickly stopped. His head was starting to feel heavy. “The village?” he asked heavily. “Have any survivors been found?” 

Mace shook his head mutely, and Obi-wan closed his eyes. _My fault._ A hand touched his shoulder, and Obi-wan’s eyes flew open. He tried not to flinch and nearly succeeded. Mace withdrew his hand but remained close by. 

“My men and I will stay to bury them,” he said gently. “You rest here.” 

“I should help,” Obi-wan said automatically. “I’m fine. I should do it, I’m the reason—” And his voice failed him. 

“You have two cracked ribs and a concussion,” the medic spoke up for the first time. “Along with severe bruising. With all due respect, General Kenobi, I recommend rest. The motions of digging may lead to breakage of your ribs.” 

_It’s the least I could do._ Obi-wan tried not to slump. He wanted to sleep. But there was work to be done. And he _needed_ to do it. 

“Obi-wan.” 

He looked up at Mace. 

“This isn’t your fault,” the head of the Order said firmly. “Get some rest. Recover. We will talk more later.” 

Ob-wan stayed silent. Protesting required too much energy.


End file.
